I'm trying to get away
Get away from my love.
I'm trying to rid my heart
Of you.

But you call my name
And you pull me back in
With your sweet smile
And your cigarette.

We pretend that we don't need them,
That we just have them for show,
But we both know we're dependent.
At least I know that you are.

You pull it to your lips
And I play off my jealousy
For that sip of nicotine
As if I don't wish that
It were me on your mouth.

And I'm trying to get away,
I know you're no good for me.
But your eyes bring me back
And I'm all ******* again.

You just don't get it.
I can't feed this addiction to you
Anymore.
Because it's breaking me down.

You want to read my pages,
But they're riddled with you.
And you want to see my words,
But they're all just your name.

And I need to learn to speak up
For myself.

I've been to the emergency room
three times
not because the bones in
my arms are broken but because
the locks that are supposed
to keep out the shadows in my head
have been smashed
to bitter pieces
I've been to the emergency room
three times
the first time I couldn't stop
crying and tears
choked me to death with the
taste of salt
like blood
and I went home that night
and sliced my wrists open
with the bitter irony that my
parents have told me countless
times that they will be the ones
always there
and they are there
it is their hands guiding silver
to make red
I remember when they used to
brush my teeth for me
and now it is my fathers rough hands
driving me to shove a toothbrush
down my throat
I've been to the emergency room
three times
and on the second time I didn't
shed a single tear
not even when my father said
he didn't think
I was trying hard enough
and I certainly didn't cry when
they said they were doing the best they could
I didn't cry over the fact that I didn't go home
for two months
maybe because home has never
been something I long for when I'm away
and on the third time I went to the emergency room
the only time tears threatened
their grasp on my throat was when
a doctor told me this sickness
has been eating away at my mind since I was in third grade
it has been picking the locks in my head
and smashing the windows with rocks
sending shards shattering to the ground
reflecting back hatred and an inability to appreciate sunny mornings and good cups of coffee and warm pools in the summer and eating an entire meal,
eating three meals a day without feeling shame roiling in my stomach
this chemical soaked monster
has been decaying my sanity
like acid against metal
leaving nothing but a trail of
emptiness behind

I am staring
At the same sky
I was staring at last year,
Listening to the same birds
I was listening to last year
Waiting for the same sunset
As I wait for this year

But the difference is
Everything seemed so empty
Last year
Because I didn't know you

"She never looked nice. She looked like art, && art wasn't supposed to look nice; it was supposed to make you feel something."



Do I make you feel something?

You are not defined
by the pain in your stomach
or the tightness in your chest,
and your shaky hands
and the inability to breathe
are not signs of weakness,
although you have convinced
yourself differently.

Every masterpiece was once
a work in progress,
and there is more to you than
a disorder.

-k.w//An Open Letter to my Anxiety

To you

I'm not really sure how I'll start this letter, which is a first since you know I love writing them. I'm trying to picture your reaction as you read these words, and I am both relieved and frightened. Relieved, because I finally have what I have been wanting to say for months off my chest. Frightened, because I may be making a grave mistake that I'll surely suffer the consequences of later.

You are like a drug to me. You're not good for me, and I'm not good for you. Yet I keep wanting you, missing you, craving your presence. You still take up about 90% of the thoughts in my mind and I wake up, every morning, thinking about you. I've been doing that for months, and I wonder when I'll stop, and it scares me to know that it may not be for a while.

Is there a reason for this letter? Yes, there is. I need you to know the words I have never told you. If I had to die tomorrow, I can promise you this: I'll die regretting not having told you this. You meant so much to me, and yet somehow you still do. Everywhere I go, you seem to follow me, haunting me like a ghost. And, to be completely frank, I deserve better than you. And I felt like you never appreciated me, but at the same time, it was my fault for not showing you who the true me was. I was always scared, so stupidly scared. I never showed you my true ability to love, and for that I am sorry.

I don't exactly know what I'm asking for you, or if I'm asking for anything at all. But know this - I miss you, and if I could redo our time together, I would.

I hope you have a good life. It hurts me to know I won't be apart of it. But hey, people come and go. That's life. Maybe we will both find someone better.

- Someone who was once your everything x

I firmly believe that the issue with us
was not an uncanny ability to dissemble,
but rather intense desire.

You craved submission and control,
you wanted compliance
and you sought out a weakness I didn't know I had.

I craved acceptance and confidence,
I wanted acquaintance.

In your pillage of my soul
you took a piece of me
that's need I knew not.

You took the very piece holding me together
and tried to shove it into yourself,
hoping, wishing, praying
it would make you who you wanted to be.

And in the flurry of your thievery,
you ripped me apart
and left me without the innocence
I'd never know.

I'm learning to put down the Whisky.
And put down all the things that keep me down.
Like the pills.
And the hopes that you'll someday return.
I'm learning not to be so broke down that I break down.
At the sound of every thunderstorm.
I'm learning that this is not the Me that you want me to be.
But this is the Me that I want.
And let me tell you, that me is a selfish *******.

When you're too afraid to end it all
But you're desperate enough to wanna go away
You dont wanna hurt the ones you love
But you dont wanna feel any more pain
When the **** doesnt take you far enough
You think about *******
When your life has no meaning to you
But suicide is too much to pay.